Free Survivors by Rich Goldhaber Page B

become this community’s Head Chef.”
I asked Beth, “Has anyone assigned apartments yet?”
    “Nope, it’s on a first come first pick basis,
and if I were you I’d pick something on the ground
floor facing the beach. It’s got a nice view and you
can relax in an easy chair on the beach anytime
you want.”
    I chose a three bedroom apartment facing
the beach, just as Beth had advised. The previous
tenants had been two gals and a lucky guy. I guess
I was born too soon and missed out on these new
co-ed living arrangements. I decided to use the
largest bedroom and moved all of the girl’s clothes
in the closet into the second bedroom.
    The sound of an airplane circling overhead
caught my attention. By the time I arrived outside
the building everyone was looking up into the sky
and pointing to the small bright-yellow Piper Cub
circling overhead. Jack and Bobby were jumping
up and down.
    The airplane finally lined up with the
straight section of the road Blaine had mentioned
and then disappeared behind a grouping of trees. A
minute later the small plane taxied into our
apartment’s parking lot. Blaine headed for a far
corner and killed the engine.
    He had a white silk scarf wrapped around
his neck, and he looked like one of those World
War I fighter pilots. The boys raced over to the
plane. Blaine lifted them both into the cockpit, and
they waved to the rest of us.
    The crowd gathered around him, wanting to
hear all about his exploits. Like the perfect showman, he kept us all in suspense for a few moments
as he slowly removed his scarf, rolled it up, and
put it in the pocket of his brown leather jacket.
    “I flew down to Marco Island. There’s a
group of sixteen down there. They said they’ve
checked things out and that appears to be everyone who survived. I told them about our group and
explained we were setting up shop at the university. They want to join our little club, and they said
they would drive up tomorrow. They seemed like
nice people. One woman looked like she was still in
shock over the death of her husband.
    “On the way back, I flew over Fiddler’s
Creek, and there were another dozen people waving
as I circled overhead. There was no place to land,
so I dropped a parachute message down to them.”
“What did the message say?” I asked.
    “It said we were all gathering here at the
university. Then I flew over East Naples and found
two small groups, and I threw down messages to
those people too.”
Mary asked, “How many people do you
think you saw?”
Blaine answered, “Maybe three dozen in total, but maybe they told others.”
    “We’re going to have to open up another two
apartment buildings for sure, maybe three or four,”
I said.
    I looked around our apartment complex.
There were over twenty buildings similar to ours.
Each building had eighteen apartments, and they
could each hold at least three people. With some
quick math, it came to accommodations for a little
over 1000 people. If we began to pull people from
the Tampa or Miami areas, we could easily reach
well over 1000 residents. We were definitely going
to need more infrastructure.
    The boys jumped out of the airplane cockpit
and ran up to Blaine. “We want a ride; when can
we have a ride?”
Blaine answered, “Soon boys, in a couple of
weeks I’ll take you both for a ride.”
    A convoy of trucks and cars from the water
filtration plant arrived, and Bill was still projecting
tomorrow afternoon for starting up the water. Beth
emerged from her kitchen and explained dinner
was going to be served on the beach, just outside
the two apartments she was using as her community kitchen.
    Beth had set things up as a buffet line. She
stood behind the kitchen counter and ladled out
bowls of soup and dishes of ravioli. Slices of pie
were already plated and waiting for us to take to
the picnic tables just outside the building. A variety of bottles and cans of soda and juice completed
our menu. Everyone thanked Beth, and she was